


Whipped

by 44TayLo



Series: Bruce Banner's Questionable Outfits [2]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Crack Treated Seriously, Getting Together, Innuendo, M/M, Me writing a sequel to a fic I posted four years ago? It's more likely than you think, So much Innuendo, There are booty shorts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-29
Updated: 2020-06-29
Packaged: 2021-03-04 01:09:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,793
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24975103
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/44TayLo/pseuds/44TayLo
Summary: "Still smug but wide-eyed, Bruce asked, 'Are you flustered?''Of course I’m flustered, have you seen yourself?'"After the events of Ripped, Tony has a question to ask Bruce. Bruce, as always, isn't making it easy.
Relationships: Bruce Banner/Tony Stark
Series: Bruce Banner's Questionable Outfits [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1814914
Comments: 7
Kudos: 67





	Whipped

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to dr_zofia_bites for the title! And thanks to the Bruce Banter and Tony Snark server for the prompt "Clothing/Fashion."

Regrettably, Tony thought, Bruce hadn’t ripped anymore shirts. He and Hulk were in agreement these days, so when Hulk did come out, Bruce’s shirt was already removed. That was beside the point, though, because what Tony was interested in was a repeat performance of when Bruce had stretched and torn his shirt at breakfast so many weeks ago.

He’d thought he’d been pretty clear in expressing his interest in Bruce. However, things hadn’t changed at all between them. Bruce continued to humor his flirtatious advances, more often than not. Occasionally, he fell back into his old habit of self-deprecating deflection. Tony noted that his self-esteem had improved steadily and greatly ever since he and Hulk had decided to stop fighting each other and instead try to understand each other. It was an undeniably good look on his science bro.

The truth was, he was interested in Bruce. Not just sexually, but 100%, all-in, whatever-their-version-of-white-picket-fence-and-2.5-kids-was kind of interested. Given Bruce’s track record, he couldn’t rule out the possibility that Bruce’s seeming lack of interest was just that, seeming. It wasn’t just possible, but probable, Tony told himself, that Bruce genuinely didn’t realize Tony wasn’t doing his thing where he flirted with everything and anything that moved, anymore. Well, he hadn’t quite flirted with anything and everything. He had his Loki-shaped limits.

The point was, he’d stopped flirting with anyone who wasn’t Bruce. The strangest thing was that he didn’t want to flirt with anyone else anymore, and rather than keep up a façade, he’d stopped. He hadn’t even fantasized about anyone other than Bruce in months. And, no matter how attracted he’d been to someone in the past, he’d never before found himself speechless the way he’d been at that breakfast. The truth was, they weren’t even dating and Tony was already whipped. He wasn’t even mad about it.

Tony forced himself to focus. He had decidedly exhausted all tactics other than using the direct approach. Today, he was going to very clearly and simply ask Bruce out on a date. If he truly wasn’t interested, they could just pretend nothing happened and continue their, frankly, epic friendship. If Tony’s suspicions were correct, it’d be the start of something even greater.

To weasel—no, not weasel, Tony didn’t weasel. Weaseling was what the likes of Justin Hammer did. To _saunter_ his way into Bruce’s good graces, he was bringing him a steaming mug of his favorite tea. JARVIS had helped him brew it correctly and fix it up just the way Bruce liked it. Who knew there was more to tea than pouring hot water over leaves? Tony certainly hadn’t.

“Hey Brucie-Goosey, I—”

A loud crash accompanied Tony’s jaw hitting the floor. The crash wasn’t from his jaw, of course, but from the dropped mug of tea. It took Tony a solid three seconds to pull himself together. In that time, Bruce had turned around, obscuring the hot pink words that were written across the gorgeous purple shorts he was wearing.

Bruce leveled him with a look as he peered over the tops of his glasses, arms still crossed over his chest and clad in a fishnet top. “Not a word.”

Clint was grinning from ear to ear, and Tony hadn’t even realized he was there until he hopped off Bruce’s desk and shoved his hands into his pockets. “This is so going on the internet.”

Bruce just shrugged. “Jokes on you, now I have my outfit for this year’s Pride Parade. Though, it might need some leather.” He tilted his head, considering. “And I don’t know if I’ll wear the heels.”

Tony couldn’t tell if he was joking, but he sincerely hoped he wasn’t. “What the hell is going on? Why do you look like you’re going to a Halloween showing of _Rocky Horror_?”

Before Bruce could answer, Clint cut in, “Hulk lost a bet!”

“Hulk lost a bet,” Bruce echoed, his deadpan tone juxtaposing Clint’s delighted one. “And, somehow, that means I have to pay for it.”

“Yeah, you should have seen his face, Tones!”

Clint gleefully launched into the specifics of the bet, but Tony wasn’t listening. Tony was unabashedly staring at the purple booty shorts that clung to Bruce’s muscular frame. His chiseled calves were accentuated by the hot pink, platform heels he was wearing. The man was clearly keeping up on his yoga on top of the weight lifting and sparring sessions, if his lithe legs were anything to go by.

He knew he’d wished Bruce would wear pants that fit so he could sneak a peek at what lay under his baggy khakis, but this just took the cake.

Speaking of cake, Bruce was turning around. Tony’s eyes were gifted once again with the sight of Bruce’s ass encased in skin-tight, purple fabric. This time, he was able to read what the hot pink words spelled out: _“Enemy of the State.”_

He was broken from the spell Bruce’s gorgeous ass had put him under when he turned around once again and stalked towards him. Part of him was disappointed, but a larger part of him was delighted that Bruce was coming closer. He was easily walking in those heels, Tony noted with some surprise, even as his mind raced to parse together why that might be.

When Bruce stopped in front of him and held out a rag, he furrowed his brows.

Rolling his eyes, Bruce said, “Do not make me kneel down in this.” He gestured to his ostentatious outfit.

Still confused, Tony took the rag. He managed to move his eyes from the purple shorts to Bruce’s gloriously exposed chest. His abs, biceps, and thicket of chest hair were all visible under that fishnet shirt. No matter how hard he tried, though, he couldn’t make his eyes move the rest of the way northward to focus on Bruce’s face.

“Tony?” Now Bruce’s tone was worried. “Are you okay?

“Have dinner with me?” he blurted. Finally, finally, he managed to jerk his head up and make eye contact.

Bruce looked like a deer in headlights. All of the casual calm he’d previously had while dressed like this went out the window.

After several, agonizingly silent seconds, Clint muttered, “Yeah, I’m just gonna…” before sidestepping them to get to the door.

Clint’s departure seemed to snap Bruce out of it. “Have dinner with you?” he repeated.

“This is not how I wanted to ask you,” Tony was quick to say, because this didn’t look great. He didn’t want Bruce to think he was just aroused by the get-up —even though, holy hell, was he ever— and that was the only reason he’d asked him out. “I brought tea, and—” As he gestured to the spilled tea with the rag in his hand, it clicked. “Oh, that’s why you gave me the rag, right. Dum-E will clean it. Then U will clean the mess Dum-E makes trying to clean it. Then I’ll end up cleaning the—look, I’m getting off topic, here.”

Bruce was smiling a little side-ways smirk of a smile. It was the smile he wore when he and Tony disagreed about something in the lab and he was positive he was right. Smug. He was smug, Tony realized.

Still smug but wide-eyed, Bruce asked, “Are you flustered?”

“Of course I’m flustered, have you seen yourself?” He gestured at the entirety of Bruce with the hand still holding the rag. “Honestly, I should have just asked if I could eat you for dinner. Or dessert, given the cake you’ve been hiding.” Shit, that _really_ wasn’t what he’d wanted to say.

“I’m flattered?” Bruce tilted his head, brows furrowed.

Tony took a breath and plunged his hands into his pockets, rag and all. “Look,” he said, tone even and much less manic. “I like you. This isn’t just a sexual thing, though, trust me, there’s that, too.” He indulged once more, letting his eyes rake over Bruce’s form. “I have feelings. For you. I have for a while. Again, more than just sexual feelings.”

“I swear, if you say it’s ‘like your heart is getting hard—'”

“Give me a little more credit than that, okay? I can say the word ‘romantic,’ I am a genius.” To prove his point, he declared, “I have romantic feelings for you.” When Bruce’s smirk turned into something softer and he didn’t immediately feel the sting of rejection, Tony added, “Which, coincidentally, does feel the way I’d imagine a heart-boner would feel. And props for the _Arrested Development_ reference, did Clint finally convince you to watch it?”

Bruce just huffed a laugh, turning his head away as if trying to hide it. “Yes,” he answered once he’d recovered enough.

“Great. Fantastic.” Tony paused for half a second. “’Yes’ to Clint convincing you or to dinner?”

Bruce shrugged, but his smile remained. “Both.”

Tony’s own face lit up.

“On one condition.” Bruce lifted a brow. “I am not wearing this.”

Tony hadn’t expected him to, but it was still a little disappointing.

“This is a third date kind of outfit.”

Tony’s brows shot up into his hairline. “Third date, you say?”

Bruce grinned.

While Tony was still processing, he was vaguely aware of Bruce closing the distance between them and leaning down (damn, those heels were tall). He looked up only to find himself meeting Bruce in a bruising kiss.

Tony’s eyes closed, and he didn’t even try to wrestle away control. The way Bruce was kissing had him feeling thoroughly claimed. He couldn’t remember the last time something this mundane had left him weak at the knees, but the way Bruce dominated it, was dominating him, was sending a thrill straight through him like an electric shock.

All too suddenly and soon, Bruce pulled away.

Tony was still gripping his arms just to steady himself. He noted that Bruce’s eyes were heated, but he was otherwise composed. Incredulous, Tony began calculating just what it might take to break that composure.

“Consider that a preview of date number three.” Without another word, Bruce exited the lab and left Tony alone.

“Well,” Tony said into the empty space. “That went well.”

“Indeed, Sir,” JARVIS answered, ever-listening. “May I suggest you cut out the middle men and deal with the spilled tea yourself?”

Snorting, Tony didn’t dignify that with a response. He did, however, clean up the tea as his brain hastily began planning the next three dates. It wasn’t difficult to parse Bruce’s meaning. Despite just seeing Bruce in that sexy outfit, he didn’t mind waiting three whole dates for sex in the slightest. Still, he’d rather it happened sooner rather than later.

“Fuck, I really am whipped,” he mumbled.

“That was my conclusion as well, Sir.”

Tony just shook his head and smiled.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! Comments and kudos are greatly appreciated!


End file.
